


Misunderstandings Regarding One's Nuptials

by Pharmockery



Category: Fire Emblem: Kakusei | Fire Emblem: Awakening
Genre: F/M, Frederick is mentioned, Had like a 3 month writers block so I'm just happy to write something, NO BETA WE DIE LIKE HEROES, Some OOC, T for some flirtacious pillow talk I guess, Vaike is mentioned
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-20
Updated: 2021-02-20
Packaged: 2021-03-17 12:35:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,522
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29592897
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pharmockery/pseuds/Pharmockery
Summary: “With enough practice, you could become a lady fit for the highest court!”It was a baffling statement, Robin reflected. Maribelle had been to the wedding. She'd seen the entire ceremony!(1.5k of mildly OOC nonsense written as an exercise to get out of writers block, directly following Maribelle's A support with F!Robin who happens to be married to Chrom at the time of achieving the support.)
Relationships: Chrom/My Unit | Reflet | Robin
Comments: 3
Kudos: 27





	Misunderstandings Regarding One's Nuptials

**Author's Note:**

> As the summary said, this takes place directly following Maribelle's A support with an F!Robin who is already married to Chrom when acheiving the support at midgame when it's been two years since the Incident with Gangrel. It was such an odd thing to read, especially if you consider Maribelle's standing in court, and the fact that Robin has already been there two years! My brain simply suggested this, anyway, enjoy. No beta, purely throwing this out there for my own catalogue.

_“With enough practice, you could become a lady fit for the highest court!”_

It was a baffling statement, Robin reflected. Maribelle had _been_ to the wedding. She’d seen Robin and Chrom kiss under the statue of Naga in the formal ceremony, in front of all the crowds Ylisse could muster, weary from the first war with Plegia and longing for something to ease the pain of losing Emmeryn.

This statement alone had given Robin pause; the next had thrown her completely for a loop.

“ _I’ll instruct you until you’re fit to consort with kings! … Or at least a baron.”_

And Maribelle was such a force of personality, Robin had just sort of—gone with it. Even when she forced her to walk in an ‘aristocratic’ fashion. Because she was still utterly bewildered by the idea that Maribelle had somehow missed the fact she was married to Chrom.

And sure, he wasn’t a king. He hadn’t even taken up the mantle of Exalt yet, not willing to step into Emmeryn’s shoes. But he was in line for the throne, commanding their armies in this new war, and she was there as his tactician and, most crucially, his wife.

So had Maribelle just forgotten the three days of feasting that Frederick has insisted upon arranging? Who did she think was Lucina’s mother? Just how deep did this rabbit hole—Robin wondered idly if that phrase would be appropriate to use around Panne—even go?

She was still thinking about it later that night, staring up at the tent ceiling as Chrom tossed in the bunk beside her. The sounds of the camp for the night had completely silenced, if only for the sound of the fire and the occasional huff of a Pegasus.

“Robin…? Are you _still_ awake?” Chrom’s shadow raised onto his elbow from the gloom beside her, his features cloaked in darkness.

“Huh? Oh, sorry, did I wake you? I—I guess I’m thinking too loudly.”

She heard a snort of tired humour from him, and she turned onto her side to look at him. He looked tired, although she suspected she did as well. He looked at her, eyebrow raised expectantly. How did you explain that one of your closest allies maybe didn’t know you were married, let alone had a child that had grown up and in a parallel universe come back to the past from the future. Hmm. Maybe she’d simplify it a bit.

“Maribelle said something weird today.” Okay, that was simple enough.

Chrom blinked, but said nothing. Maribelle was certainly one of the normal suspects in the ‘saying something weird’ line-up, although everyone had their moments. It couldn’t just always be Henry, Gregor and Vaike, with guest appearances by Cherche.

“Chrom, I don’t think she knows we’re married?”

Both her husband’s eyebrows shot up, before shooting back down as he frowned, making a face that could only adequately be described as ‘worriedly perplexed’.

“What— Didn’t she come to the wedding? I remember she helped Lissa get into that huge ceremonial dress. How could she not know?”

Robin sat up onto her elbow to match his height, their faces very close in order to keep their tone quiet.   
“It’s—The weird thing she said, she told me her aristocracy lessons would, and I quote, ‘make me fit to consort with kings’.”

“Consorting is one word, I guess…”

She lightly nudged him on the arm, and he smiled.   
“No, I see your point. It’s certainly an odd thing to say. But, Robin, my love, it’s not feasible to say she doesn’t know we’re married. She saw the ceremony. And the feast, when Vaike drank too much and Frederick escorted him out of the hall.”

“Chrom, don’t mince words, he threw him out. Literally. Overarm, too, not an underarm throw. There was feeling behind that throw.”

He laughed at little at that, the fond memory of times gone past warming his face. Robin shuffled closer, and he curled an arm around her, gathering her close and tucking her under his chin, the two of them lying back down to stare at the ceiling of the tent once more.

He was warm under her cheek as she listened to the reassuring thump of his heart.

“Do you think I should tell her?” Robin whispered. Chrom ran his fingers through her hair, a hum rumbling in his chest as he considered her question.

“Chances are, she was probably making a statement about something. For all the love my sister and I have for her, Maribelle has always, well, been like that. Perhaps you haven’t learned enough in two years for her liking and she’s finally had enough.”

She turned, looking at him, playful affront painting her face.  
“That would then be on you, _dear husband_ , not introducing me to such courtly practices as walking correctly!”

His hand lay across her waist as the other played with her hair absent-mindedly.  
“Forgive my implication then, my love, when I say we were hardly spending time walking during our first two years of marriage. We were forging pacts, assuring peace—”

“Making princesses?” Robin finished for him, a smirk colouring her face as he dipped close to her to capture her lips in a kiss that was so achingly soft it made Robin’s stomach flutter.

“That too.” His hand returned to stroking the locks of her hair, the hand on her waist making small circles with the pad of his thumb. Even through her nightclothes, she shivered, before shaking her head free of the thought of what they had been up to instead of learning how to stand in the aristocratic fashion. She settled down again, curling against him, tangling her legs with his and making him jerk when she snuggled her cold feet against his.

“I’ll ask her in the morning,” she said, eventually, minutes or hours after they had fallen into silence, although there came no answer—he had already fallen asleep, face peaceful in spite of the worry that plagued it during the waking hours, when war and fate and future weigh heavily upon him.

***

“Maribelle!”

Robin hurried to catch up with the young lady as she crossed the campsite, the hustle and bustle of the morning routine seeming at complete odds to her put-together appearance. She turned, smiling brightly.

“Oh, Robin, dearest, good morning! I had wondered if I would see you today. Have you been practicing? Your posture looks better today, my dear.”

Robin shuffled, suddenly aware of her posture where she wasn’t before. If there was any change, Maribelle didn’t comment on it. In the distance, Frederick harshly reprimanded whichever poor soldier had put the spears back outside of the assigned order. It made for an interesting background, the occasional shouted remark in Frederick’s distinctly deep voice cutting through the bustle of the camp.

“I’m glad I caught you, Maribelle—”

“ _THIS SORT OF UNTIDY BEHAVIOUR LOSES WARS, SOLDIER_.”

“—I just wanted to talk about what we discussed yesterday, if that’s okay?”

“Oh, of course, darling.” Maribelle flicked one of her perfect curls back into place, and smiled radiantly as Frederick continued to make sure that anyone in the camp who hadn’t known the spears belonged in a particular place knew damn well that this private certainly didn’t.

“ _WOULD YOU EXPLAIN THIS TO PRINCE CHROM?”_

Robin sighed, casting around for inspiration to help her with what she had the distinct feeling would be a difficult, or at the very least painfully awkward conversation.

“Well, you mentioned that under your tutelage I would start to belong in the kingly courts, and your offer was greatly appreciated—”

“ _APOLOGIES DON’T WIN WARS_.”

“—But the thing is, I don’t think I would learn anything from you that I wouldn’t learn from Chrom? I mean, he’s been my husband for two years, I think I’ve started to pick things up!”

There was a pause. Even Frederick has ceased in his whole-hearted lecture on the importance of a tidy armoury within wartime. Robin suddenly wished she’d taken some time to plan this better, maybe plotted a better location to approach the issue of _‘What did Maribelle think_ ’, a location that wasn’t in the sphere of influence that Frederick was in at any one time. He had helped to make the people milling around disappear in search of something to look busy with, so she supposed she should thank him.

“Oh, so _that’s_ what that party was! You know Robin, my dear, I must confess, I did wonder why dear Frederick was so aggravated by Vaike. He usually tolerates drunken shenanigans with only the slightest bit of fatherly lecturing afterwards.”

“ _I EXPECTED BETTER OF YOU, YOU KNOW._ ”

Lecturing precisely like that, a dazed and reeling part of Robin’s mind supplied helpfully. She blinked, looking away to the side before dragging a hand over her face, as Maribelle faded into the background noise with Frederick, explaining how, honestly, sometimes things just escape one’s notice, and really, she had been _ever_ so busy…

Robin got the feeling it was going to be a long, long, day.

“ _WHERE DO I EVEN BEGIN?!”_

 _Me too, Freddie-Bear_ , Robin thought to herself. _Me too._


End file.
